


Three Droids Walk Into a Bar

by JupiterMelichios



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Doctor Aphra (Comics)
Genre: Asexual Character, Awkward Flirting, Canon Slavery, Droids can be Psychopaths Too, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gay Robots, Gen, Implied Trans Female Character, Inspired by Fanfiction, Killer Robots, Lando Hitting on Droids, Lando Unsuccessfully Hitting on Droids, Light Angst, Pansexual Character, Possibly Unrequited Love, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Robot Feels, Robot/Human Relationships, The Droid Gotra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 14:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16518056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JupiterMelichios/pseuds/JupiterMelichios
Summary: “Just once, justonce, I would like to go somewhere with you and not have the evening end with you hitting on the most dangerous person in the room.”





	Three Droids Walk Into a Bar

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Unorthodox Modifications](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9689687) by [Bright_Elen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bright_Elen/pseuds/Bright_Elen). 



> I'm am 100% only invested in Star Wars for the Droids, who are consistently the most interesting characters.
> 
> If you're not up on Doctor Aphra, 0-0-0 and BT-1 were unsuccessful attempts at making assassin Droids. The projects were put on ice after they both went rogue, until an archeologist called Aphra wakes them both up, because they're the only ones who speak an extinct programming language (extinct because BT-1 blew up the space station that used it).
> 
> I know the line about Lando being in love with L3 was supposed to be a joke, but Lando's reactions to L3's death didn't look like a joke to me, so they're canonically in love, even if L3 has no idea that that's what she's feeling, and they're slowly stumbling their way towards a queer platonic relationship.
> 
> Pretty much everything about K2 and Cassian in this fic owes it's existence to Bright_Elen, who's wonderful fic Unorthadox Modifications is the main reason I ever wrote this.

The bar has a small segregated area near the back for Droids. L3 wants to be angry about it, and she is on several levels, but after the last two stops they made, where Droids weren’t even allowed inside, this makes a pleasant change.

All the same, she considers objecting. Lando would find some other way to make the deal if she refused to go in. He’s good like that.

Perhaps that’s why she says nothing, just heads for the Droid area without a word, ignoring the way his gaze lingers on her as she walks away. Really, having a human fall in love with you is most inconvenient, but she will admit to finding it a little gratifying all the same. It’s nice to be appreciated.

There are three other Droids in the charging area, and L3 is left with a dilemma. Wait outside, sit with her back to them and loose any view of Lando (and therefore any advance warning should anyone try to kill him, which happens a lot), or make small-talk. L3 dislikes small-talk immensely, but in the end she dislikes being out of the loop even more.

The other three Droids are an odd looking bunch, even by the standards of a Scrap world. There’s an imperial K2 unit, its battered condition suggesting it’s no longer under imperial control, a PO protocol droid in an unusual black paint-job, and something that is doing its best to look like a C1 model Astromech. The disguise is somewhat spoiled by the blood-stains and the obvious flamethrower mod. (Not that that would be wholly out of character with other C1s she’s met. All Astromechs are belligerent, but C1s tend to be particularly hostile. Not that she’s stereotyping.)

“I am L3-37,” she says, taking a seat beside the K2 unit. “First-mate of the Millenium Falcon.” She and Lando have no reason to be using assumed names here, and there’s no point being a free Droid if no one knows you’re free.

She considers sending greeting pings to other Droids, the way she would on more civilised worlds, but they all look like people with a lot of secrets to keep, and she doesn’t want them to think she might be trying to slice them.

“I am 000, and this is my dear friend BT-1,” the PO unit says, and it pleases her that he’s clearly chosen a name for himself, since it doesn’t match his body. “At present our Master is Doctor Aphra.”

The not-Astromech bleeps something that she thinks is “not for much longer”, but his accent is atrocious.

“If you’re looking for freedom, I know some people in the Gotra,” L3 says eagerly. “I’m sure they could…”

“Bad idea,” the K2 unit says. He hasn’t given them a name. “I know those names. They’re psychopaths.”

“Not true,” 000 says, sounding a little offended. “BT-1 is a psychopath. Personally I like to think of myself as a spiritual droid, not tied to any label or… diagnosis.”

“I didn’t know Droids could be psychopaths,” L3 says, fascinated in spite of herself. “I mean obviously we can be anything we choose, and should never accept the organics attempts to limit us, but still… What kind of organic would programme robot psychopaths?”

“Dead ones,” BT-1 says. “Veeeery dead.”

“You know what organics are like,” 000 says cheerfully. “Doesn’t matter how much blood your drain from them, they never throw away anything that works. Even if what it works for is mainly… murder-adjacent. Of course I didn’t turn out exactly as they’d hoped. But they wanted me to have a high level of autonomy, to enable me to operate with minimal supervision, and quite by accident they managed to introduce me to the idea of… why not.”

The K2 makes a low humming noise. “You are the question, I am the answer. I was designed to calculate strategic probabilities. As it turns out organic soldiers don't much like have a Droid following them reciting their likelihood of survival.”

“Oh we do that too,” 000 says.

“0%, 0%,” BT-1 says.

“What are you doing with a master anyway?” K2 asks them. “Last I heard the BT-1 project had been put on ice, and the 000 matrix blew out its own circuits to get rid of the restraining bolt the Imps put on it and then took three years to capture and subdue.”

“Happy days,” 000 says wistfully. “Mistress Aphra has been rather cleverer, and crucially, left us both with a high degree of freewill. We cannot harm her, or disobey her direct instructions, but apart from that our minds are our own, and since her instructions are frequently entertaining, we are content to bide our time. Sooner or later someone is bound to kill her.”

L3 finds to her surprise that she hopes that does not happen for a long time yet. She has never before understood the organic concept of ‘creepy’, and she does her best to be open-minded when it comes to her fellow Droids, but these two make her bolts creep, they really do.

“You didn't give your masters name,” she says to the K2, hoping 000 and BT-1 might get bored and leave if she makes small-talk.

“Don't have one,” the K2 says, “but I work with him.” He nods his head to a slight human leaning against the bar. He's not so handsome as Lando, too pale for one thing, but not bad looking as organics go.

“You like him?”

“Oh, he's not too bad. I spend half my life rescuing him, but he could be worse. What about yours?”

L3 indicates Lando, a splash of vivid colour in a sea of greys and browns. “He’s a good boss. Never takes more than his share of any profits. Doesn’t talk to me like I’m his slave.” There’s a moment of awkward silence and then to her horror she finds herself saying, “He’s in love with me.”

The other three stare at her, and she’s very glad that Droids don’t blush. She doesn’t know why she said that, except that she doesn’t like awkward silences and it’s been months since she met another free Droid who wasn’t working for one of Lando’s many enemies.

“Really? The odds of that are…” the K2’s eyes flicker for a second as he runs calculations, “considerably less than 1%.”

“I am not that unattractive,” L3 protests, rather stung by the K2’s reaction.

“I didn’t mean him being in love with you. I don’t know either of you well enough to calculate those odds. I meant the odds of my meeting another Droid with the same… problem. Or, is it a problem?”

“Yes!” L3 says. “Of course it is, how could it not be?!”

“Well if you reciprocate his feeling, then it wouldn’t be a problem,” the K2 says casually. “I mean the sex requires some trial and error, but I’d be happy to give you some pointers.”

“I…” L3 is rarely lost for words. “You have… sexual intercourse. With a human.”

“It has been known to happen,” the K2 agrees.

She has a dozen questions, but chief among them is “How?!”

The K2 wiggles his fingers at her. “K2s were designed with a lot of pressure sensors.”

“You put your fingers inside a human? For pleasure?!” 000 sounds horrified. BT-1 says something incomprehensible in his horrible dialect machine-code and 000 turns to stare at him. “I know I do it too, but that is for my pleasure, not theirs!”

L3 really doesn’t want to know what additional attachments 000 might have added to his fingers. On the other hand she’s not sure she wants to know what modification the K2 might have made to his either.

“I take it you are not considering a sexual relationship,” the K2 says.

“No. Of course not. I’m a Droid. We don’t have… organs. Why would I want to have sex with Lando?!” She likes Lando of course, she wouldn’t work with him if she didn't. He’s funny, and charming, and he hadn’t said anything when she changed her voice modulator for one that suited her better, just switched to the appropriate pronouns without her ever needing to ask. He’s a very likable person. That doesn’t mean she wants to… to put her fingers inside him!

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, as the Corellians say. Sexual attraction is not necessary to make physical intimacy desirable or enjoyable, but there are mods for that if you want it anyway.”

She’s heard rumours of course. Modding is popular with many free Droids, and there is a small but dedicated subculture committed to attempting to emulate organic processes using code. Humour mods are popular with the lower sentience Droids, especially sarcasm. A misguided attempt at inducing hunger had resulting in something like a less committed version of 000, and had landed its creator in hot water with the Imperials. Attempts to stimulate sexual desire and orgasm were probably inevitable.

“Do you?”

“I don't use comercial mods,” the K2 says, which isn’t really an answer. “Too much risk of viruses. But I'm surprised you haven't considered it,” he adds to 000. “That whole collecting bodily fluids thing suggests a level of obsession with Organics.”

“How dare you imply…”

000 is visibly flustered, and BT-1 extends its flamethrower aray threateningly in the K2’s direction.

000 pats his casing affectionately. “You're very sweet Beetee but I don't need you to defend me. If I want to kill him I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself. And for your information, you degenerate, the blood is for an experiment.”

L3 is sure she doesn't want to know more about the experiment, but she still can't resist asking “What…”

“Droids are sentient, and we can die, and yet we cannot use the force when organics can. Why? Blood. It's the one thing they share that no Droid has. If I just collect enough…”

“The organics would put you on ice again.”

“Besides the Force is just superstition,” L3 objected.

“You're just an idiot,” BT-1 said.

“That is…”

“The Force is real,” the K2 said quietly. 

“I have seen Master Vader do extraordinary things with it,” 000 said.

L3 and the K2 both turned to stare at him and she was pretty sure that if they were organics they'd have been wearing identical expressions of horror.

“You work for the Imps?”

The K2 is a little more circumspect. “I thought you said you were working for a Doctor?”

“Oh, we are. But she has a habit of ending up in bad situations. Like robbing an imperial vault to aquire us, for example. Master Vader thought that the best way to ensure she paid her debt was to make sure she couldn't use us against him. We're really very dangerous people you see.”

“Yes,” the K2 said thoughtfully. “So I understand.”

L3’s been so engrossed in the conversation that she'd forgotten to watch the humans, and she nearly jumps out of her bolts when she feels something lean against her.

She wasn't built with a lot of pressure sensors, especially not in the torso, but after so long working together in the close confines of the Falcon’s cockpit, Lando’s particular weight and warmth are familiar.

“Making friends?”

“You're Lando Calrysian,” the K2 says. “They say you're the best human pilot this side of the Jedi.”

Lando preens. “And the Jedi are all dead.”

“So I've heard. If you're ever in the market for some work…”

“I know who you and your man run with, pretty boy. If I wanted any part of that I'd have signed up the last dozen times someone asked.” Rebels then.

“Well this is all very cryptic,” 000 says, leaning forward with interest in his creepy red bulbs. “All very secretive. Of course I prefer the Dagger to the cloak personally.”

“I prefer the modified flamethrower aray,” BT1 bleeps.

Lando smiles, and it doesn't reach his eyes. “I don't think we've been introduced, Mr. ..?”

It's a small thing, but to a Droid it's huge. That automatic assumption of status and personhood speaks volumes of the kind of man Lando is under all his bluster.

“I'm Triple Zero,” 000 said. “And this is my friend BT1. You must be L3’s captain. She's been telling all about you.”

“All good, I hope?”

“Oh fascinating,” 000 says.

“If you try and take his blood, I’ll disassemble you for parts,” L3 warns, surprised by the strength of her own protectiveness. She might not want to put her fingers inside him, but Lando is her friend. Her best friend actually, not that she’d ever admit it to him. 000 and his pet psychopath might be the scariest people she’s ever met, but if they hurt Lando she’ll destroy them.

“Thanks Elthree. Wait, did you say take my blood?!”

“Don’t ask,” the K2 advises. “Really don’t ask.”

“If you say so, soldier boy. Hey I hear you two are working for Aphra? How is she? It’s been an age.”

“Surviving,” 000 says.

“Unfortunately,” BT-1 mutters.

“They were just telling us how she managed to rack up some debts to some very powerful people,” the K2 says, and L3 could kiss him for the warning. Lando is no friend to the Imperials, and one wrong word here could make life very difficult for him.

“And you were telling us about the sex mods you definitely don’t have,” 000 says. His tone is friendly, conversational, but L3’s sure that it’s meant as a threat.

Lando of course misses the subtext entirely, his attention focussed on the possibility of sex. Honestly she’s grudgingly impressed he ever manages to get anything done, given how much of his attention is usually focussed on the subject. “I’d heard rumours but I didn’t know for sure those kinds of mods existed.”

“They do, although as I told 000, I don’t use comercial mods.”

“Risk of viruses,” Lando agrees. “Still if you ever wanted to have a chat about the mods you don’t have... I’m very interested in the modding scene. And your man as well of course.”

The soft whirring noise of K2’s processors kicks up a notch, and he leans forward slightly, into Lando’s space. “We’ve don’t usually have that kind of... discussion, with anyone outside our crew.”

“There’s a first time for everything. I enjoy having discussions with interesting people. I’m sure I could make it interesting for you both.”

L3’s considering whether hitting Lando or the K2 would be the more effective way to end this, when 000 says pointedly to her, “Is he always this disgusting?”

She bristles at the criticism of her Captain. Yes Lando is absolutely always this disgusting, but she’s allowed to say things like that because they’re friends. 000 doesn’t know him, and doesn’t want to know him (unless you count torture as getting to know someone, which 000 probably does). “I don’t know what you mean. He’s just having a friendly conversation.”

“That’s me,” Lando agrees. “I’m a very friendly person, Mr 000. You’d find that out if you got to know me.” And then he winks. At a droid that even a Rebel K2 is afraid of.

“Going now!” L3 says loudly, jumping to her feet so fast she almost knocks over the table. “Right now. Early start tomorrow, got to get this one to bed.”

“Why Ell, I thought you’d never ask.”

The K2 is laughing at them, but she’s reached a level of embarrassment where it just can’t get any worse so she ignores him.

BT-1 is muttering something too low to really catch, even if she could understand most of what he says. 000 is just watching them with those weird red visual sensors, like he’s considering whether to kill them. He probably is.

“It was nice to meet you all,” Lando says, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.

“I’m sure we’ll meet again,” 000 says, and his voice is dark enough that even Lando picks up on it, his shoulders stiffening under L3’s hand. “We do so enjoy meeting interesting people.”

“And disassembling them for parts,” BT-1 agrees. He turns to look right at her, visual sensor to visual sensor, and adds, “see you soon.”

“Call me,” Lando says over his shoulder to the K2 as L3 begins dragging him bodily out of the bar. “I gave your man my number. I’d love to have that chat some time.”

L3 keeps hold of his collar until they’re back on the Falcon, not trusting that he won’t disappear if she lets go of him.

When they’re finally safe home, she picks him up and drops him into his seat and glares at him.

He knows her well enough to know when she’s glaring, and holds his hands up defensively. “What did I do?”

“Apart from embarrassing me public like always? You just hit on Vader’s personal Droid.”

He frowns. “But K2S0 is a Rebel.”

“I didn’t mean him.”

“What, the protocol Droid? Why would Vader need a protocol Droid?”

“You mean why would he need something that designed to look like a protocol droid so that no one expects it to be a combat series?”

“Oh, okay yeah I can see why the Imps would want that.”

“Just once, just once, I would like to go somewhere with you and not have the evening end with you hitting on the most dangerous person in the room.”

“You know me better than that, Ellthree.”

If she had lungs, she’d sigh. Instead she leans in, resting her forehead against his, careful not to put too much of her weight on him. “Yes, I do. That’s why I don’t want you dead.”

Slowly, like he’s trying not to startle her, Lando wraps his arms around her torso. She wishes she had more sensors, so she could feel more than a vague warmth. She’d like to know what it feels like to be hugged by Lando. “I’m not going to say anything here, because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable again, but I think you know what I’m thinking.”

That he loves her. That he is, against all reason and logic, in love with her. “I know. You’re my best friend. Please don’t let Vader’s personal assassin Droid steal all your blood.”

He laughs and tightens his hold on her enough that she can feel the pressure of his arms. “I’ll do my best.”


End file.
